


Bitter Like Cinnamon

by negannookie



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Death, F/F, Tamiel, applesauce - Freeform, grieving Jadis, posthumous letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:16:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/negannookie/pseuds/negannookie
Summary: Jadis lets out her feelings for her deceased love in a letter,





	Bitter Like Cinnamon

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind she hasn't formed full sentences in a while. It's pretty primitive! :P

To my dearest Tamiel,

I haven't made so many long sentences in such a long time but I lost something. I lost a diamond by leaving her in a dump. I lost my general and my lover and my everything. I lost the best masterpiece of my life, the one I put so many years into and so much work and my entire heart and all my love. The one piece of art I poured my whole soul into was you. I want to paint you again but it's too painful. I don't want to sculpt you like I said I would someday or sketch you like I used to while we sat in the up, up, up and watched the pigeons. Every day it was something new. You sitting in your apron, nothing else. You French inhaling like you were smoking from the last pack on Earth. A closeup of your beautiful gray eyes. But I had a muse back then. Without a reference, a model, I know I'll never be able to get every line and color right, the two tiny tight buns you wore, the golden of your hair. I would just feel guilty, guiltier than I already do, if I left something out. I remember the way you moved. Talked. Fought. Created. I try to draw you how I remember you now but I start remembering the little things. How you ate the cinnamon applesauce and I took plain because I knew it wouldn't matter. I'd still taste the spice on your lips after, and it would always be better. Sweeter. Nicer. Warmer. How we would lay on the big black circle with the H in the middle and I wound copper wire around your fingers. Wrists. Toes. Neck. It got hot up there and we would melt together, soft and sticky like riverbank clay. The storage crates were cool, alone, no one around to bother us. The last time we snuck off you talked about war, about peace, about ending this all. You smelled like metal and smoke and looked like you had lived a thousand years. You weren't yielding like adobe, didn't mold as easily to my hands or fall apart like usual as I tried to make you feel something.Maybe we both just wanted to lay a while, but there was a feeling, like we wouldn't ever get this again, so we just held fast to one another like pieces of scrap wire twisted together. We never did get the chance again. I wonder when I walk through the heaps by myself if I could have done something. Did I say too much? Did I say too little, like always? Was he just going to call “light it up” anyway, kill you, kill me too? I was sick the last time I ate applesauce, like I was choking on all the words I could have said. The cinnamon didn't taste like it would in a kiss. It was too hot, bitter, but still cloying. It tasted like all the words I could have said but swallowed instead. Sorry. Apologize. Remorse. Remorse. Remorse. I had remorse and I still do. I ate the whole can, no spoon, big gulps between shuddering gasps and rising bile. Took it, didn't bother, like I tried to teach you. I love you forever and always Tamiel, from the first moment I saw you to the last.

Love, Jadis

**Author's Note:**

> It was unstated what exactly Tamiel meant to Jadis. I could be reading this all wrong; she might have been just a friend, or a sister, or an aunt, or a cousin. But I had to write something. She seemed genuinely close to Tam, and devastated to lose her. This is only my take.


End file.
